


Kawai

by Aaskada



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Magical piano, Minorly explicit language, Ridiculous character names
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 16:11:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaskada/pseuds/Aaskada
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all the things one might expect to find in that one abandoned building, a piano wasn't exactly high on the list.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kawai

Venezia tapped her pen on the desk as she stared at the clock. Classes for the day lasted until three o’clock: they only got out before five because there had to be time for club meetings. The only upside to that was that classes didn’t start until eight, though that may have been because it was easier to schedule all the grades, six through twelve, to start school at the same time. The classes weren’t so bad, except for right before the weekend. Especially when that weekend was the beginning of Christmas Break (It was a private Christian boarding school, so they could call it that). When the bell finally rang she was the first out the door, though she waited in the hallway until Terence came out.

“Two weeks of no school, finally.” She grinned at her little brother.

“And we’ll be staying here, of course.” They stopped in front of their lockers to get everything they needed. “I wonder what Mom and Dad’ll be doing.”

“Do you really have to wonder?” She rolled her eyes. “They’ll be getting drunk, as usual. Terence, I love you and all, but having your little brother in the same grade because you’re only nine and a half months apart is a bit much. They were probably drunk at the time; which explains my name, actually.” She slammed her locker shut.

“What’s wrong with your name?”

“Venezia Michigan Campbell? What’s not wrong with that? For starters, Venezia is the Italian name for Venice, Italy. I only know that because I’ve spent so much time studying it. And Michigan? Michigan is a state, not a name.”

“Okay, fine, your name is pretty bad, but still. When should we get them Christmas presents?”

“Can’t. There’s only one thing they would like and we’re not old enough to buy alcohol.”

They started walking toward the heavy, wooden double doors that guarded the entrance to that particular school building. People were pushing through the others to get out them, even though the halls were already emptier than they had been a few moments before. Others were trying to get through to clubs and friends, talking loudly. The hallways were chaos on the last day before break. They finally shoved their way out of the crowded school and into one of the many courtyards. There were fountains and beautiful landscaping, but the pair ignored it altogether.

“Ven—“

“What took you guys so long,” Kennedy cut him off with her yell. “Your class is practically right next to the doors.”

“Our lockers aren’t. Terry wants to get presents for the parents.”

Kennedy, the oldest of the three siblings, gave him a look, but didn’t say anything.

“They can’t be that bad,” he protested.

“The fact that you don’t know is proof enough. Drop it, Terry,” she said quietly.

They stopped walking in front of what was arguably the creepiest building on campus. Kennedy leaned against the stone wall around it and tilted her head back so she could see the top of one of the taller towers. Its roof was pointed and the walls were far too crumbly for being built only two centuries before. It reminded her more of a medieval castle which was somehow keeping itself from completely falling apart will sheer will and half-hearted attempts at reconstruction. The mortar from in between the eroded brickwork was beginning to resemble sand, but the stained-glass windows were miraculously unbroken. They were dirty, though, and rather plain. The courtyard between the wall and the building, which might have been a house at one point, was overgrown and the plants growing up the sides, which must’ve been intended as elegant, were now half-dead and dry.

There was a near deafening creak and she looked to see Terence chasing after Venezia as she ran through the gate and toward the door. She groaned and followed them. They were already standing in the entrance hall when she caught up with them.

“This is pretty cool, right?”

“Ven, Terry, this place is practically falling apart. Let’s get out of here before it comes down on our heads.” They didn’t move. “Like, now.”

Venezia grinned and turned to run up the stairs. Terence looked between Kennedy and the stairs uncertainly before following the younger of the two sisters. Kennedy groaned in frustration before following them cautiously. The stairs creaked ominously under her feet and she could hear the floor doing the same under her siblings on the landing above. Doors screeched in protest as they were wrenched open for the first time probably in decades. She got to the top to see Venezia disappear through one of the open doors.

"Guys, we need to get out of here. This place can't be structurally sound." She was ignored again.

The floor was protesting every step of the way down the hall to the room her siblings had gone into. The hallway was lit from one end by one of the large stained-glass windows, but was mostly dark. There was murky light from the windows in the rooms off the hallway whose doors had been opened. Between the dirt and dust on the windows and the dirt and dust that had been kicked off the floor into the air by the teenagers trampling through it was still almost impossible to see. There weren't rotting tapestries or creepy portraits, but the darkness and the squeaking everything the house was still terrifying on the inside.

A whooshing noise heralded a gigantic plume of dust that hit her in the face just as she arrived at the door. She choked on it for a moment before covering her face with her arms. Venezia was standing in the center of the small room next to a piano, holding a dropcloth that might have once been white and looking sheepish.

"Sorry 'bout that."

She glared at her for a moment before putting down her now-dusty arms and turning to the piano.

"I wonder why that's in here. The room's a bit small for it."

It only took a couple of steps to be standing next to the baby grand, which was still shiny-dark from the protection of the dropcloth.

"Dunno. I s'pose so."

Terence stuck his head in from the hallway to see what they were talking about.

"A piano? Weird. How'd they get it in here?"

That was a very good question. If the room was a bit small for a piano of that size, the doorway definitely was. Not to mention the stairs. Even if they turned the piano on its side it couldn't have gotten up the stairs.

"Maybe the got it through the windows down the hall," Venezia suggested.

"I don't think they're big enough," Kennedy said. "Not that it really matters."

"Why'd they put it in such a small room?"

"It is a pretty nice piano to be in a place where no one can hear it."

"I don't know about that," Terence said. "Sound carries pretty well up here. You might be able to hear it from anywhere in the house."

"What—like ambient music for the eighteen hundreds? Doesn't seem likely."

Kennedy pulled the wooden bench out from under the piano and settled in front of it. She had been the only one to apply herself to the piano lessons one of their many transient nannies had insisted on, though she hadn't taken lessons long. She played part of In the Hall of the Mountain King on the piano.

"Strange, it's in tune."

"Seems brand new," Terence commented.

"This building's been abandoned for at least a hundred years, right?" Venezia asked. "What the hell was it before that?"

"It's built like a home," Terence said with a shrug, "but it's not furnished like one. We could probably find out."

"Can we leave now?" Kennedy asked.

"Yeah, whatever. Let's come back later."


End file.
